


SVS-12: Vengeance 101

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M, Series: The Sentinel Slash Virtual Season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair is targeted by a stalker with an axe to grind. References to the Cassie episodes, Girl Next Door, and Spare Parts.<br/>This story is a sequel to SVS-11: Where The Jungle Ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	SVS-12: Vengeance 101

**Author's Note:**

> Episodes of SVS may contain depictions of consensual m/m sex. These depictions may or may not be accompanied by specific mention of items necessary for safe and healthy intercourse. It is the intention of FiveSenses, Inc. and all SVS authors that, even when such items are not explicitly mentioned, their use is to be assumed as a matter of course. All of us at FiveSenses, Inc. are aware of the risks of unprotected sex in today's world and strongly advocate the practice of safe sex, including the use of condoms and other protective devices.

## SVS-12: Vengeance 101

by XFreak

Author's webpage: <http://www.squidge.org/5Senses/>

Author's disclaimer: This story is an episode of The Sentinel Slash Virtual Season (SVS), produced by FiveSenses, Inc. SVS is based on characters and concepts developed by, and belonging to, Pet Fly Productions. This story is intended for private, personal enjoyment only. No money is being made, or will be allowed to be made, by the author of this story or by FiveSenses, Inc. from the writing and distribution of this story. Any original characters introduced in an SVS episode belongs to the episode author and to FiveSenses, Inc. and should not be used without their permission.

* * *

Author's e-mail address: XFreak1@aol.com 

Author's webpages: <http://www.e-fic.com/xfreak/> Text Only mirror: <http://members.nbci.com/XFreak1/>

Story Notes: As always, many thanks to Grey for tireless beta reading as well as being a supportive friend. Thank you also to EagleEye, Poledra and Zerena for beta reading. Thanks to WoD and Aly for their thoughts and suggestions, and to Alex, Lisa, Patt, and Seabreez for answering questions about specfic scenes. You've all been very helpful. Finally, thanks to FiveSenses for inviting me to play in their back yard and to Shar for the lovely visuals. 

* * *

Vengeance 101  
by XFreak 

* * *

A man in his early to mid twenties entered the visitation room of the Starkville State Correctional Institution, the standard blue uniform hanging on his lanky frame. His steps sluggish, dark circles below his eyes accented his lack of sleep, deep lines etching themselves into formerly smooth young skin. He slithered into a hard plastic chair, the chain around his waist and between his handcuffs clinking as he dug into the pocket of his baggy pants. Producing a white square of paper, he slid it across the table to his visitor. Two words written in black ink stood out in sharp relief, the slanted scrawl neat. _Blair Sandburg_. 

"Go to Cascade. Find him." 

The guest slipped the paper into his pocket and glanced fleetingly at the guard, who frowned as he watched. "Price?" 

Hazel eyes narrowed, a chill vibrating through the air and into the visitor's own eyes. "Just do your damn _job_." 

Accustomed to these childish tantrums, the guest did not flinch at the impatient tone, but merely sat and waited for the furor to pass. 

"Find him." The young prisoner stood, causing the chair to scrape the concrete floor, its echo loud in the nearly empty room. 

"And then?" 

"Then you report back to me. Got it?" 

"Got it." 

He nodded and the ghost of a self-assured smirk appeared across the prisoner's crooked lips. Turning, he walked out of the visitation area and back into the cold, empty grey corridor. The chain leading from his waist to wrists echoed ominously with every step. 

Only when he reached his cell did the guard remove his bonds, the manacles a recent addition since the shanking. It didn't matter that he had nothing to do with it. His cell mate was dead, not that the young prisoner could feel a loss for anything except his former life. 

Curling onto the bottom bunk, hatred for one man darkened the blood pumping through his veins into a black sludge. Blair Sandburg cost him a life of luxury, a sure stroll down easy street. The most simple of pleasures now a rarity, he actually had to work for his existence. Not only that, but at a little person's job. He did laundry for all the inmates on his block every single fucking day. Wash, dry, fold. To add to the humiliation of it all, he had to hand deliver each and every load to its rightful recipient, some of the inmates stealing a grope here and there now that his protection was gone. 

*Blair Sandburg is going to pay.* The thought sustained him from day to miserable day in this hell-hole called life in prison. 

* * *

Jim lay back on the couch, absorbing his version of heaven. His shirtless lover leaned back against him, sinking into the heat he offered. He ran a palm up and down Blair's arm, the contact lazy, comfortable. Extra sensitive fingers registered every strand of hair, each patch of dry skin. 

Slowly, Jim brought his head up without opening his eyes, inhaling the scent of the other man's dense curls. Burying his nose in them, he took another deep breath, startled from his trance by a husky chuckle. "What?" 

"You sniffing my hair again?" 

"What if I am?" Defensive, the tone came out a little harsher than he meant for it to. 

Blair shrugged, the motion hardly there. "I've just never had anyone do it before." 

"You've never been with a sentinel before, have you?" 

"Point." 

"Thought so." His body growing sluggish, Jim wrapped the other man in his arms and squeezed, relishing the chance to unleash all his love. Leisurely, his right hand began to massage over the wiry hairs covering the bare chest, and he smiled at the slight moan when his thumb brushed a nipple. "Like that?" he asked, nibbling the earlobe closest to his mouth. 

Lust roughened Blair's voice into a sexy rasp. "Yeah." 

Sliding his hand downward, Jim dipped it just under the waistband of his lover's jeans, moving no further, simply resting and enjoying the feel of hot skin under his fingers. 

"Oh, man, you can't be serious." 

Guiding the curly head onto his shoulder, Jim kissed his lover's temple. "Go to sleep, Chief." 

"Tease." 

"Point." His voice slurred as he slipped into contented slumber ahead of the man in his arms. 

* * *

Blair jogged down the steps of Rainier's library, his vision bleary from reading and head pounding from straining overworked eyes. Closing them against the bright sunlight for no more than a few seconds, he stumbled into someone and found Rick Feldman's familiar face pinched with irritation and aimed in his direction. 

"Rick, man, I'm so sorry." He dropped his pack on the ground before bending down. "Here, let me help you." 

The other man shook his head. "It's okay. I wasn't really watching where I was going, either." 

"Something wrong?" Blair handed the gathered papers and books to his old friend. 

"No, I was just sort of preoccupied." 

"Anything you care to talk about?" Re-shouldering his backpack as they stood back up, Blair squinted slightly as he often did when focusing on someone. 

Rick stuffed a hand into the pocket of his jeans as they fell in step side by side. "Uh, I'm thinking about asking Jill to marry me." 

"Jill Gordon?" 

"Yeah. We've been going together for a while now and I think it's time." 

Blair nodded. "How's she doing? You know..." 

"Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. When I told her she needed to see someone about what that _bastard_ did to her, she thought I was just being the overprotective boyfriend. After you backed me up, she realized it might help and it has. So, thanks." 

"No problem, man." Shifting his weight to move the backpack out of the way, Blair dug his keys out of his pocket. "Friends help each other. That's what we do." 

"Well, I guess I'd better get going. I've got some errands to run before I meet Jill for lunch." 

"Yeah, go ahead." Blair frowned as he approached his car, noticing an envelope sitting on his front seat. "Give me a call," he yelled over his shoulder. "We'll have coffee." 

"Okay." 

"I want to know what she says." A wicked grin slipped out as he glanced back at his friend. 

"Yeah, okay." Rick laughed and shook his head before getting into his car. 

Distantly, Blair heard the other man's ignition turn over as he unlocked his own door and threw his pack onto the passenger seat. Brow furrowing, he picked up the manila envelope that proclaimed his name in letters cut from a magazine. Recalling Jim's instruction to never open a piece of mail with oily spots because it could be a letter bomb, he examined it and found none. Undoing the clasp and sliding his hand inside, he retrieved a black silk rose and a smaller envelope that proclaimed, "I'm watching," in similarly cut out letters. With trembling hands, he opened the unsealed envelope and found about a dozen pictures of himself in public places, totally oblivious of his audience. 

"Oh my God." He threw the contents down onto the driver's seat, backing away as if they somehow made him dirty. 

Stopping on his way out of the parking lot, Rick rolled his window down. "Blair? Are you all right?" 

"Uh..." He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, eyes riveted to the package's contents. "I don't know, man." 

Getting out of his car and looking inside, Rick's eyes widened. "Oh, man. That is whacked. You'd better get on the phone to your partner." 

Patting himself down rather urgently, Blair glanced at his backpack on the other side of the car, his cell phone sticking out of the small pocket on the front. "Damn." 

"What?" Concern laced the single word. 

"It's in my pack." Blair inclined his head, eyes fixed on the threatening package as if it were a snake hissing and ready to strike. He gasped as Rick leaned into the car and retrieved the phone, handing it to him and closing his fingers around it. 

"Call him." 

Blair nodded and flipped it open, dialing Jim's desk. 

* * *

So focused on running names in his current investigation, Jim barely registered his phone ringing. Continuing to punch letters on the keyboard with his left hand, he blindly swiped in the general direction of the receiver with his right, finding purchase on the third try. Cradling it between his ear and shoulder, he returned both hands to his task. "Ellison." 

"Hey, Jim." 

"Chief. Are you going to make it in to the station today?" 

"Actually, do you think you could swing by the university? I need to talk to you." 

Glancing down at his watch, Jim noted that it wasn't even remotely close to half-way through his shift. "How about I pick you up for lunch in about an hour and a half and we'll talk then?" 

"I think you need to come by now." 

Sitting straight up, Jim caught the slight waver in his partner's voice on the last word. "Blair? What's wrong?" Extending his hearing, he listened as a vaguely familiar male voice demanded, "Damn it, Blair. _Tell_ him." 

"Tell me what?" He pictured in his mind the evil eye his partner now directed at the other man, the small cracking noises as Blair squeezed the plastic casing of the cell phone a dead giveaway. 

"There was a package in my car when I got out of the library." 

"What kind of package?" Standing, he grabbed his jacket off the hook. 

"You'll need to see it. My car was _locked_ , Jim." 

"Who's with you?" 

"Rick Feldman." 

"Who?" 

"The Ventriss case? Jill Gordon?" 

"Oh, right. Can he stay with you until I get there? I don't want you alone." Listening as Blair relayed the question and worrying more than a little at the lack of argument, he nodded when his lover answered in the affirmative. "Okay. Sit tight. I'm on my way." 

"Okay." The relief in Blair's voice tugged at Jim's heart as he hung up the phone. He liked when the other man depended on him because it was just good to be needed, but hated that the situation warranted it. 

Knocking once and poking his head into Simon's office, Jim ignored the scowl. "I've got to roll, captain. Something happened at the university. I'll need forensics on the scene." 

Picking up his phone, Simon spoke around the unlit cigar clenched between his teeth. "What's going on?" 

"I'll fill you in later, sir. Sandburg's car's in the lot he usually parks in. Have forensics meet me there." With that he shut the door and jogged toward the stairs, sprinting down them several at a time. 

* * *

Squealing his tires as he skidded to a stop, Jim jumped out of the truck almost before he shifted into park. "Chief!" 

Sliding off the hood of his friend's car, Blair smiled, but his heart wasn't in it. "Hey, Jim." 

"You okay?" The detective lightly gripped his partner's elbow in concern. 

"Yeah. I was a little freaked out when I called you, but I'm okay now." 

"Why don't you go wait in the truck?" Jim recalled the time Blair, in an unguarded moment, told him that he always felt safe in it, kind of like being surrounded by the man himself. 

"I'm okay, really." 

"Please?" He employed his version of the puppy dog look that got to his lover every single time. 

"You might need me when you examine the car." 

"If I do, I'll just give you a yell." Jim dug two latex gloves out of his jacket pocket. "It's not like you won't be watching me like a hawk." 

"All right." Blair sighed, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear while he headed toward "Old Faithful" as he so aptly named the truck. 

"Thanks, Chief." Jim made his way over to Blair's friend. "Rick, I want to thank you for staying with him." 

"It's no problem, man. I _told_ him to watch his ass with Brad Ventriss." 

"You think Ventriss had something to do with this?" 

"I don't know." Rick blew a defeated breath out between tight lips. "I don't have any proof or anything. But I wouldn't put it past him." 

"You do know he's serving a life sentence at Starkville." 

"Not long enough," Rick bit out bitterly, his mouth pressed into a firm line. 

Laying a hand on his shoulder, Jim gently squeezed. "I'm sorry about what happened to Jill." Digging out his wallet, he produced a business card and handed it over. "If you or she need anything, give me or Blair a call. Okay?" 

"Yeah, man. Thanks." Rick tapped the card against his thumb before climbing in his car and leaving. 

Snapping the gloves onto his hands, Jim walked over to the driver's side of Blair's car, where Serena had her _bag of tricks_ , as he called it, open dusting for prints. "What have you got?" 

Smiling warmly at him, she stood. "I've pulled a couple of partials off the door, but it could be just anybody touching the car as they walked by. I found a few hair and clothing fragments inside the car, but it could have been Blair's or one of his girlfriends'." 

"Yeah." Her comment reminded Jim that Blair still appreciated the female form, even if he was committed to him. 

"Something wrong?" 

"No. Just thinking." 

Gesturing into the car, she said, "I didn't touch the package itself. I thought you'd want to do that, being the detective on the scene and all." 

"Thanks." Grinning, he recalled the time Serena arrived at a crime scene as a back up forensic tech and found Jim and Cassie Welles going full tilt in an argument about proper departmental protocol. Socially, he liked Welles. Professionally, she got on his damn nerves until she finally stopped acting like she thought she was a detective on the Warren Chapel case. 

Picking up the rose, he scrutinized it, but didn't find anything unusual. Bagging it, he handed it to Serena. Flipping the large manila envelope over, he recognized some of the letters from a particular Marlboro ad. He detested smoking, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the Marlboro Man. 

Sliding the envelope into a larger bag, he handed it over to Serena as well. Gathering the scattered pictures, his stomach seized as he thumbed through them. If taken in appreciation of his lover's beauty, he'd love to have some of them to keep. The photographer's intent, however, ruined the joy for life captured in these frozen moments in time. Making a mental note to take some of his own pictures of Blair, he bagged the photos and then the smaller envelope and handed them both to Serena, knowing that she knew well enough what to look for without him actually saying it. 

* * *

Hanging up his phone, Simon stood up and walked over to his door, yanking it open. "All right people, listen up!" 

Satisfied that he had everyone's attention, he crossed his arms over his chest. "It appears one of our team has been targeted by a stalker." 

"Who?" Brown asked. 

"Sandburg. I don't want you people treating him any differently. The kid's got a good head on his shoulders and we're damn well going to make sure it stays there." 

At the questioning gazes directed his way, he elaborated. "Someone dropped a package for him in his locked car in the university parking lot while he was studying. The package contained a black silk rose along with some pictures and a message that said, and I quote, 'I'm watching.'" 

"Is he all right?" Megan asked. 

"He's with Jim now and he's safe. He doesn't need us treating him like he can't handle the situation. You can show him your support by making yourselves available for the investigation." 

Assorted murmurs of "damn right" and "you bet" circulated throughout the room. Joel Taggert in particular looked like a pissed off daddy bear. 

"All right. Break time's over. Back to work." Closing his door behind him, Simon shook his head and wondered why the kid had to draw all the nut jobs out of the cracks in the pavement. 

* * *

After giving his partner an official shadow and sending him on his regular routine, Jim took a walk to forensics. "Hey, Serena. Got anything for me?" 

"Hey, Jim." She reached for a file folder and opened it. "I didn't find any prints on the contents of the package itself." 

"But?" 

"I did find a powder residue, but I don't think it's going to be much help." 

"What did it turn out to be?" 

"Cornstarch." 

Scratching the back of his head, Jim sighed. "No, that's too common. It could've come from anywhere." 

Flipping a page, she moved so that he could view the file's contents as well. "The only print we found on the car that came back with a match was Blair's." 

Chuckling, Jim thumbed the side of his nose. "Yeah, I don't think he'll ever get over getting booked, fingerprinted, and photographed." 

Serena smiled. 

"Anything else?" 

"Actually, yes. The petals of the rose had trace amounts of aftershave on them." 

He nodded. "Old Spice. I smelled it at the scene, but I wasn't sure if it was on the flower or just in the air." 

"I didn't smell anything. How did you--?" Stopping abruptly, she met Jim's warmly smiling eyes, eyes that said, *You know I can't tell you.* She held up a hand. "Never mind. I don't think I want to know." 

"Probably not. Is that everything?" 

"Unfortunately." 

"Yeah." Jim turned to leave, stopping at the gentle touch on his forearm. 

Squeezing slightly, Serena lowered her voice almost to a whisper. "We'll get this guy. Nobody around here wants to see Blair hurt." 

"Thanks. I hope that's true." He blinked back the sudden sting in his eyes as he headed out into the hall. 

* * *

Charlie Spring strolled into the guest bedroom occupied by his beautiful friend, Naomi. She stood next to the bed clutching a scruffy brown teddy bear, her arms folded over it as she closed her eyes in an expression of utter love mixed with bittersweet sadness. 

"Hi." Charlie spoke softly in order not to startle her. Her face lit up when she looked over and smiled at him, her boundless energy practically crackling in the air. "What's that?" 

Wiping the moisture from the edge of her eye, she hugged it tighter. "It's Blair's teddy bear. He used to carry it around everywhere with him. Wouldn't leave it for a second." 

He stroked a well loved stuffed ear. "What's its name?" 

"Scruffy." 

"The name fits." Holding his hand out expectantly, he wiggled his fingers. "May I?" 

"Sure." Naomi handed it over. 

Closing both hands around the small bear, Charlie's eyes drifted shut and almost instantly images leapt into his mind's eye. A skinny little boy of about four looked defiantly up at him, eyes too large for his face, holding the bear protectively out of the reach of the adult hand moving toward it. 

The next hit showed the same boy a little bit older, the tight curls on his head now longer but still short, precariously riding a bike without training wheels. "Look, Mommy! I'm riding all by myself!" he exclaimed, so excited that he almost crashed. 

Suddenly, the scene shifted and he heard melancholy organ music. The boy at about eight years old clung to a young Naomi's side, pleading with the elderly man lying in an open casket. "Grampy, please wake up! I don't _want_ you to go!" Tears streamed down his desperate face. 

Overwhelmed at the sense of loss he felt in young Blair's heart, Charlie opened his eyes and focused on Naomi, needing to distance himself. "Who was Grampy? Your father was still alive until recently and Blair doesn't have another side." 

Naomi tried to smile, but her face nearly crumbled instead. "When he was in elementary school, one of Blair's teachers told the class that sometimes when people get old, their families can't take care of them anymore and put them in nursing homes." Her chin trembled as she fought to maintain her composure. "I made the mistake of letting it slip that sometimes people stick their relatives in those places and never come to visit or make sure their loved ones are taken care of. Blair was so angry that he _demanded_ I take him to visit one of those people." 

"So, the next day, we visited the local nursing home and he adopted Grampy. We traveled a lot in the summers, but during the school year, we stayed in one place for as long as possible. He visited Grampy every chance he got and very proudly told everyone that would listen that he adopted a grandpa. He thought that was such big news because he never had one before... that he knew about anyway." 

Turning away to look out the window, Naomi sighed loudly. "I had hoped that Grampy would live until the school year ended and I could detach Blair from him with love. But he passed away about a week before classes let out for the summer. He tried to prepare Blair for it, telling him that he'd go to sleep soon and Blair wouldn't see him again until he got to heaven. At the funeral...." 

"Blair begged him to wake up," Charlie supplied in a whisper, his own eyes moist. 

Naomi whirled around, hair flying much as her son's did. "You saw it!" 

"He loved Grampy so much, Naomi." 

Nodding, she smiled sorrowfully. "He told me he was never going to love anybody ever again because it hurts too much when they leave. It took him a long time to work through the anger. Not long after that the panic attacks started." 

Moving forward on instinct, Charlie wrapped his arms around her, trapping the small bear between them. The next thing he knew, an overwhelming sense of fear gripped him and he saw a black rose landing next to an envelope with letters cut from a magazine. He couldn't read them, but he recognized the masculine hand that had dropped the flower. 

"Oh my _God_." He quickly backed away from Naomi and once again gripped the bear. 

"Charlie? What is it?" Concern underscored the breathy words. 

"It's Blair." He met her gaze. "You have to go to him." 

She shook her head, confused. "Is he hurt?" 

"Naomi, Blair is _scared_. You're his _mother_. Go. To. Him." 

Without hesitation, she hurried out of the room and he followed, standing close by as she frantically flipped through the phone book for the number for the airport. 

* * *

Jim looked up sharply and narrowed his eyes at the knock on the door, book forgotten, as he wrapped his fingers around the grip of the weapon sitting next to him. Standing, he firmed his hold, motioning Blair back into the study as he silently advanced toward the door. Inhaling, Jim's posture relaxed when he recognized Naomi's familiar fragrance. 

Carefully opening the door, he smiled at her, shielding his weapon from her sight, hiding it in the hand resting against the door knob. "Naomi. What brings you to Cascade?" 

"Where's Blair? Is he all right?" She blurted the words in a rush of emotion. 

"He's fine. He's over in the study." Jim pointed with his free hand as he shut the door, but not before she noticed the weapon in his other hand. 

"What's going _on_?" 

"Mom!" Blair walked out of the study, giving Jim the necessary time to lock the door and stow away his weapon. 

"Blair." Relieved at the sight of her son, she hugged him tightly and then shook his head by sinking two hands into his curls as she pulled back. 

A fondly exasperated expression settled over his features. "What is it with you two and my hair?" 

"It's beautiful, honey." 

Glancing at Jim for help and finding none, Blair focused on his mother. "What are you doing here?" 

"Charlie got a hit and he said you were scared, Blair. What's going on?" Her face transformed into that of a stubborn mule as she tucked curls behind both his ears. 

*So, that's where he gets the stubbornness,* Jim thought affectionately. 

Blair glanced over at him again, his eyes revealing all the older man needed to know. As he suspected, Blair was really pretty freaked out about the whole stalker situation, but held it inside himself to keep Jim from thinking him a spineless goober. 

"Naomi," Jim said, "why don't I take your coat and then we can all sit down and discuss this." 

Her gaze darted from Blair to Jim and back again. "Okay. But you're not going to get out of telling me what's going on." 

"Wouldn't dream of it. I'm quite used to Sandburg determination." 

As Jim busied himself with placing her coat on a hook and grabbing three bottles of water, one for each of them, Blair took Naomi's hand. "I didn't think you were speaking to Charlie." 

"I wasn't. But I let it go and we're friends again." 

Two pairs of Sandburg eyes locked. "Let what go?" 

"He knew about you two and didn't tell me. Said it wasn't his place." The tone of the last sentence made it sound like the most ludicrous notion she'd ever heard. 

Jim rejoined them, handing Naomi's water to her from behind, and settled his arm around Blair's shoulders when she took it. "He's right." 

"But I'm his _mother_." 

"And that's precisely why you should have heard it from Blair if you hadn't stumbled upon us in Wolf Point." Jim waited for his lover to settle himself on the couch and then dropped beside him, replacing his arm around the younger man's shoulders. 

Sitting in a chair across from them, Naomi waited impatiently for them to get comfortable. "Now, talk." 

A bark of laughter bubbled out through Blair's lips. "God, Mom. You sound like Simon." 

"I'm infinitely more dangerous. Quit beating around the bush." 

"Okay, here's the deal." Jim released Blair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Yesterday, Blair found a package in his car that contained an envelope full of pictures of him. It appears that someone has become taken with him." 

"What about the rose? The letters from the magazine?" 

Blair grinned wickedly at Jim. *Busted.* 

"There was a black silk rose in the package along with the lettering you mentioned. The large envelope had Blair's name spelled out and the second said, 'I'm watching.'" 

"And what do you intend to do about it?" Her tone beyond accusatory, she frowned at Jim. 

Blair sat forward, suddenly edgy. "Moth-er." 

"Oh, don't you 'mother' me, young man." Dismissing her son yet again, she pinned Jim with her gaze. 

"When he's not with me, he has a department shadow and will continue to until we find this guy." 

"So, you think it's a man?" 

"We don't know for sure yet. The suspect left traces of Old Spice aftershave on the rose petals, but I'm not ready to rule out the possibility that it could be a woman trying to throw us off our game." 

"So, you basically don't know anything." 

Standing, Jim sighed and walked over to the window, gazing out over the water. "Can _anybody_ win an argument against a Sandburg?" 

Chuckling, Blair broke the tension for the moment. "Only another Sandburg." 

"Just my luck to have two of you," Jim mused aloud, his reflection grinning back at his lover. 

Naomi stood and advanced toward him. "Don't you try to distract me, James Ellison!" 

"That's enough!" 

Jim and Naomi turned toward Blair's angry face in unison. 

Searching for a milder tone, the younger man took a deep breath. "Mom, you will not come into Jim's home and insult him. He's doing everything he can. It just so happens that he can't do much until this person shows up again. That's the way it works. Until then, I have to put up with having a shadow." The last sentence made it clear to all in the room how happy _that_ situation made him. 

"Honey." 

"No, Mom. You're welcome to stay with us as our guest, but you will respect Jim in his home." 

"I think I need to meditate." 

Blair aimed a fond, gentle smile at her. "You can use the study. Come on. I'll help you get set up." 

Waiting uneasily, Jim fidgeted until Blair rejoined him in the living room. "You didn't have to do that, Chief." 

"Yes, I did. She needs to know where my allegiance lies." 

Pulling his lover into an embrace, Jim nuzzled his neck. "You don't have to choose between us." 

"Trust me, Jim. I had to put a stop to it. You don't know how bad it can get." 

"I love you." His lover's curls swayed with the force of his breath, and he sighed, enjoying the vibration against his lips as the other man spoke. 

"And I love you." They held each other tightly yet comfortably for a long while. "She'll be okay. She's just not used to me standing up to her. I don't think she's ready to face the fact that her little boy grew up when she wasn't looking." 

"And a fine man he turned out to be." Jim smiled as the arms encircling him tightened, the heartbeat speeding at the rare praise. 

* * *

The following day, mother and son strolled happily from the elevator after a refreshing walk in the park, Officer Bob Denson trailing behind at a respectable distance. Naomi Sandburg was the only person on this earth besides his mother who got away with calling him Bobby. 

Placing her head on Blair's shoulder, she wrapped her arm around his at the elbow. "I still can't believe you chose Jim over me." 

He sighed. "Mom, I know how you can get. The next thing I know, you'll be marching into Simon's office and giving him another lecture about me parading around in a uniform and jack boots." 

"I'm so glad you get to finish your doctorate." 

Sliding his key into the lock of the loft, he steadfastly avoided her gaze. "I'm lucky I got another chance." 

"I'm so sorry, honey. You worked so hard and I ruined it. And I just wanted to help." The dejected slump to her shoulders mimicked her tone. 

"Let's not go over that again, okay?" He crumbled and looked at her, planting a kiss on her forehead when she nodded. "If you learned nothing but to respect my wishes, we can move on from here." 

"I did learn that." She lifted her head off his shoulder. "Although it's hard not to turn into supermom right now with some lunatic after you." 

Pushing the door open and eyes widening as he regarded the kitchen table, Blair gasped. "Oh my God." A black silk rose sat perfectly centered, a red ribbon tied in a bow adorning the white vase. A large manila envelope sat in front of it, centered as well. 

"Bobby!" Naomi screamed and the officer pushed past them, weapon raised. 

Blair's face paled a bit as they stood just inside the door and waited on borrowed breath for Officer Denson to complete his sweep of the apartment. Re-holstering his weapon, the cop picked up the cordless phone on the kitchen counter, dialing seven digits. "Detective James Ellison of Major Crime, please. Thank you." 

* * *

Jim walked into the loft followed closely by Joel Taggert, both detectives' strides projecting anger. Lips pressed so firmly together that a whitish ring surrounded them, the former bomb squad captain turned his baseball cap around backwards and set to work examining the flower and package. 

Jim joined his partner in the living area, his attention clearly divided. "Did you touch anything?" 

"After that dressing down you gave me for opening the first one? I think _not_." 

Pitching his voice low, Jim tipped Blair's chin up with his fingers after glancing around to make sure that nobody was paying attention to them. "Chief, I didn't give you a dressing down. I just want you to use that noggin of yours and be careful." He tapped said noggin lightly to make his point. 

"Potato, potahto. Message received loud and clear." 

"You angry?" 

"No." Blair glanced down at the floor, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Just a little tense, y'know?" 

"Yeah, I know." Jim sighed, rubbing his hand over his hair and scratching the nape of his neck. The wariness of constant worry weighed his tone down, now unable to relax even at home, their sanctuary from the world. 

Joel joined them and saved Blair from having to reply. "It's clean." 

Patting Blair on the shoulder in a move that clearly said, *Later,* Jim headed toward the "gift", snapping latex gloves onto his hands. 

After watching Jim walk away, Joel regarded Blair's profile. "We're going to get this guy. Don't you worry." Disgust and anger warred for dominance in his tone. 

Nodding, Blair absently grazed his bottom lip with his thumb. "I'm okay." 

"And you're going to _stay_ that way." 

Blair laughed nervously, turning his attention to the kitchen. "I sure hope so." He didn't want to think of what would pass between his mother and Jim if things turned out badly. No doubt they would exchange angry words and the hurt feelings would remain, erecting an impenetrable wall, isolating one from the other. 

"I've got something," Jim called. 

Jumping, Blair reluctantly drew his gaze from his mother's nervous cooking, wondering where they were going to store all the leftovers. Maybe they could invite all of Major Crime for dinner. 

Joel's voice developed an almost breathless quality as he quickly made his way over. "What?" 

Jim held up a plastic bag containing one blond hair. "Dyed your hair lately, Chief?" 

The edge of his mouth curling into a grin, he shook his head in the negative. "Not my color, man." Gesturing toward the stack of photos, he met an amused blue gaze. "You done with these?" 

Jim nodded, a grim glint in his eyes telling him he wouldn't like it. "Put these on first." The older man held a pair of gloves out to him. "They haven't been dusted for prints yet." 

"Right." Blair pulled them on before picking up the photos. Turning his body to where Joel could look at them over his shoulder, he began to leaf through them. About the fifth picture in, he froze, barely chancing a breath. 

Jim's strained voice broke through Blair's shock, the older man tossing the bagged flower down on the table and reaching for the vase. "Turn it over." 

Blair did so and his heart lost its rhythm for a moment. Letters cut from a magazine proclaimed, "I'm watching her, too." Flipping the photo back over, he looked at an image of Naomi passing his Volvo as she headed toward the loft the day before. "Bob?" Urgency propelled the tone only sentinel ears would hear tremble. 

The officer appeared. "Yeah?" 

"Do me a favor?" Blair's eyes focused on his very own sentinel's tense profile. 

"What's that?" 

"Take my mother to the airport. See to it that she boards a plane back to Charlie's even if you have to cuff her to the seat." 

"Blair? I'm not going anywhere!" She quickly walked over to where he stood, crossing her arms stubbornly. 

"Yes, Mother, you are." Glancing away from Jim, he showed her both sides of the picture. Drawing it out of her reach to avoid contamination as evidence, he watched her falter. 

"Oh my God, Blair." 

"I'll call Charlie and see to it that he's there to pick you up." 

"Are you sure you want to do that, Chief?" 

Blair turned an indignant frown in his partner's direction. "What do you mean?" 

"We don't know how dangerous this person is. Who's to say they won't follow Naomi back to Charlie's?" 

"Protective custody?" 

Jim nodded curtly, his focus back on examining the evidence. "Protective custody." 

"Blair," Naomi began. 

"Mom." He dished out yet another helping of the tone that said, *You can't win.* 

"Okay, sweetheart." She hugged him, one thing he would never tire of, and kissed his cheek. 

"Denson?" Jim said. 

"Yes, sir?" 

"Name an officer who you'd trust to guard a member of your family." 

"That's easy. Kaleigh DeWitt." 

Resting his hands at his sides, Jim intently watched the officer. "How do you know her?" 

"We went through the academy together and she's my fiancee. She's honest and good at her job." 

"Take Naomi to Captain Banks' office and put DeWitt on her until further notice. If he has any questions, tell him to call me. As a matter of fact, tell him to call me anyway. I've got some ideas about who we can put on the other two shifts." 

"Yes, sir." Since guarding Blair was his official assignment for the day, Bob turned to check with him. "You going to stick with Jim until I get back?" 

"Yeah." 

Jim nodded. "He's with me." 

Satisfied, the officer ushered Naomi out the door. 

"You okay, Chief?" 

"Yeah. I'd better call Charlie and fill him in." 

"He probably already knows." 

"Wouldn't doubt it," Blair tossed over his shoulder on the way to the phone, turning the stove off en route. 

* * *

Lying on his side, Jim groaned as sensation spiraled throughout his body, converging in his groin. Before long, the pleasure grew more intense and he realized it wasn't a dream as he'd originally thought, waking up to a blow job one of his favorite things. "Ah, God," he moaned, attempting to refrain from thrusting. 

His eyelids lazily lifted and drooped again, but not before showing him the hard cock just inches from his face, the head ruddy and swollen. Deciding waking up wouldn't be so bad after all, he watched a strong hand glide down the furry stomach and move to circle his prize. Like a strike of lightning, he grabbed that hand and pushed it away, held it behind his lover's back as he inched forward just enough to tease with his breath. 

"Jmmm," Blair groaned around the cock in his mouth and Jim shuddered at the delicious sensation, his thighs trembling. 

With his free hand, Jim held his lover's hard shaft stationary, moving his open lips to rest against the spongy tip. Allowing the warm exhalation to caress the desperate flesh, he smiled at the anguished noise originating from his own groin, shivering as the vibrations from it rendered him paralyzed for a few precious seconds. 

As he pulled away momentarily, the disappointed groan did wonderful things to his body and he sighed happily. He ever so slowly ran his tongue from the base of the straining flesh to the head, his eyelids fluttering drowsily, drunk on arousal. The pressure against the vein in Blair's cock counted out the other man's rapid heartbeat, and Jim wished he could bottle this feeling of complete and utter contentment. 

His lover tried to rush things along, firming his suction and speeding his strokes as his free arm held Jim's hips steady. Feeling his balls begin to contract, the older man released the hand behind Blair's back, running his own fingertips lightly up his lover's side, grinning at the full-bodied quiver. "Blair," he breathed against the twitching cock under his lips. 

His lover halted his frenzied motion. "Mm?" 

"I don't want to come yet." 

"I _oo_ ," came the unintelligible reply and he finally realized what Blair was trying to say. 

He dabbed his tongue against the tip of his lover's cock, circling, smiling as it flared under his attention. "You slow down, I'll speed up." 

"'kay," Blair mumbled around his cock and Jim trembled with the effort to keep from tumbling over the edge, sighing thankfully when the other man gently tugged his balls back down. 

Deal made, Jim closed his eyes and inhaled the smell at the very center of the other man, the very _maleness_ of him. Concentrating on that, his own flesh grew infinitely harder and Blair slacked off a bit, wrongfully assuming that the swelling was a precursor to orgasm. Closing his lips around the steel cock, Jim set out to bring his man a tidal wave of release. Licking, sucking, and humming around the flesh he loved so dearly, he lost himself in his task, only distantly aware of his own needs. His arousal took on a secondary importance, pleasing his lover the foremost thing in his universe. 

Some indefinite amount of time later, he heard Blair's heart rate sky rocket, the cock in his mouth hardening impossibly further. A bit nervous about his lover achieving release while still sucking him, he decided to trust him in this as he did all other things and tickled with his tongue just below the crown. 

Blair tilted his head back and released him. "Jim!" His hips thrust violently as his release shook him, that tidal wave sweeping him away. 

Moaning deep in his chest, Jim kissed the deflating organ before rolling onto his back only to have Blair's mouth follow him. His own body now sated, the younger man climbed to his hands and knees, turning himself until his legs hung off the foot of the bed, flopping his body down between Jim's wide-spread thighs. Once there, he renewed his suction, his motion now lazy, unhurried. 

Floating dangerously close to completion, Jim was only distantly aware of strong arms locking around his thighs, his trust in this man comprehensive. The suction grew in intensity, the strokes faster. He groaned as a tongue swirled around the ridge of his crown on the upstroke and the next time it caressed him his body seized, every muscle locking in place and twitching uncontrollably. 

What felt like hours later, Jim blinked and found Blair lying atop him, lovingly kissing his neck and cheeks. Once the younger man realized his lover was back with it, he swooped down and took Jim's mouth, totally in control of this encounter. 

When Blair released him, Jim captured heavily shadowed cheeks in his palms, meeting the smoky blue gaze. "What was all that about?" 

"We haven't been together since I found the first package. I'm not letting some head case come between us." 

Brow furrowing thoughtfully, Jim nodded, dropping a kiss on his lover's forehead. Moving his lips to an ear, his voice rasped against it. "You're getting very good at this making love to a man thing." 

Blair chuckled. "I had an _excellent_ teacher." He bit at Jim's neck playfully and settled in for his post-lovemaking nap. 

* * *

This time when the blond visitor arrived, the young prisoner already sat at a table waiting for him. Only handcuffs bound his wrists together, the chain around his waist now absent. Leaning forward as the other man seated himself, the prisoner's laid back demeanor _almost_ hid his eagerness. 

"Did you get them?" His low tone brought a suspicious glance from the guard along the wall. 

The visitor slid an envelope across the table. "Mom sent pictures of cousin Blair for you." 

Hands trembling as he pulled the flap back and extracted the pictures, the prisoner's cheeks grew flushed as he perused them, lips tightening with rage at the relaxed, happy man enjoying a free life. Hazel eyes bored into the visitor's own and the blond smiled in response, his pale lips curving into a mocking grin. 

Withdrawing another envelope from his jacket pocket, the guest pushed it across the table as well. "These are the ones from when he found his package." 

No longer interested in hiding his eagerness behind a cool facade, the prisoner tore into the pictures. Flipping through them quickly, a devilish grin spread across his face, his eyes twinkling with a delight unseen in him since he crossed the threshold of Starkville. "Initiate phase two." 

"Your wish." Deliberately spilling the coffee sitting on the edge of the table, the blond yelled and jumped up, creating just enough diversion to allow the prisoner to slip one of the photos into his pocket unnoticed. 

"Hey." The young man placed a small square of paper on the table as the visitor scooped up both envelopes. "Go see this woman. I always follow through." 

Nodding, the blond picked the paper up and slid it into his pocket before exiting the visiting area, soon to be ten thousand dollars richer. 

* * *

Simon stuffed a cigar into the corner of his mouth and chomped down on it. "I don't like it." 

"How did I just _know_ you'd say that?" 

The captain narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, zeroing in on his target. "Because, Sandburg, you're not a..." 

"...a cop," Blair finished for him on a sigh, waving a hand. "I know, I know." 

"I think you know, sir, that I'm not too thrilled about putting Sandburg at risk, either." Jim's shoulders looked tense enough to splinter off into a thousand pieces. "But I don't see any other way." 

"What about waiting the guy out?" Simon's voice sounded more nasal than usual in the confines of his office. 

"I'm afraid he's going to escalate and I'd rather us be in control of the situation than him." 

"What makes you think that?" 

"The first drop was in Sandburg's car. The second, his home. Not even counting the fact that both were securely locked, I'm thinking there's not much more personal this guy can get before he decides to up the ante." 

"And you definitely think he will?" Holding his cigar in one hand, Simon studied it, the set of his body less rigid. 

"Yes, I do, sir." 

"So, run down the plan for me." 

Nodding, Jim anchored his feet and held up a hand as he explained. "I figure we can set up in the park. That way, Sandburg can be on his own, but there'll be enough of us around to close in before anything happens. Everyone, including Sandburg, will be wearing earpieces and I'll be running the operation. I'll hear him if he says anything and I can respond through the radio." 

Simon shot a look at Blair. "And you're okay with this?" 

"Yeah, I'm good." 

"Do it," Simon ordered. "Now go away. Some of us have work to do." 

"Very good, sir." Jim placed his hand between Blair's shoulder blades and ushered him out of the office. 

* * *

Blair turned the corner in the department garage just before his partner. "Damn it!" 

Senses alert, Jim drew his weapon and pushed the younger man behind him. 

Exploding, Blair kicked a tire on the Volvo. "I just got the body work paid off from when I got car jacked!" 

Scratched into the deep green paint were two words. *Closing in.* The windshield wiper held prisoner a black silk rose. 

Holstering his weapon, Jim dug out his cell phone and hit one of the speed dial numbers. "Simon? Jim. We're going to need forensics down here in the garage." He paused for only a beat. "Sandburg's car's been vandalized." 

Blair vaguely heard an outburst from Simon and grinned as Jim winced and pulled the phone away from his ear. 

"Yes, sir. It looks like I was right." Jim sighed, still holding the ear piece away. "I really wish I wasn't." 

* * *

Back at the loft, Jim lowered the Kevlar vest onto Blair's shoulders over the white t-shirt, fingers trembling as they fumbled with the fasteners. "You don't have to do this, you know," he said. The younger man's thumb caressed the side of Jim's face and he closed his eyes, drinking in the contact. 

"It was my idea, remember?" Blair stroked his thumb gently over his lover's beard stubble, used to his partner's nerves before sending him into the line of fire. 

Jim diverted the conversation as he returned to his task, but not before Blair saw the emotion swimming in his eyes. "It's not that I think you can't handle it." 

"I know." 

"I-I just don't want you to get hurt." Finally mastering the Velcro straps that he could normally adhere in his sleep, Jim refused to meet his lover's eyes and missed a tender, fond smile. 

"I know." 

"I'll be right there. I won't let anything happen to you." He sounded for all the world like he was trying harder to convince himself than his partner. 

"I know." 

"You're sure you want to go through with it?" Holding the blue flannel shirt open for Blair to slide his arms into, he waited for an answer. 

"Yeah, Jim, I am." The younger man maneuvered his arms into the shirt, swallowing down a grin at Jim's absent minded actions. "At first, I was pretty freaked out, but now I'm just damn mad. That car is a classic!" 

Huffing a laugh, Jim nodded as he proceeded to button the shirt for his lover. "Okay." 

"I can dress myself, you know," Blair quietly said. 

"Sorry." His cheeks flushing, Jim tried to find something to do with his hands. 

"Jim." The older man reluctantly met his gaze, face still faintly pink. "Everything's going to be fine." 

"I know." He stepped closer, fiddling with the button just below the hollow of Blair's throat. "I just wish there was another way." 

"Come here, tough guy." Blair tilted his head back and brought Jim's mouth down to meet his own, opening wide at the desperate exploration. After a few moments passed, he broke the kiss and followed it up with several smaller ones. "Rain check?" 

Leaning his forehead against the other man's, Jim nodded again. "We'd better get out of here, huh?" 

"Yeah. Let's get this over with." 

"And then I've got a rain check to cash." Jim's lips twisted into a devilish grin, transforming him back into the self-confident detective as he grabbed his coat off the rack and held the loft door open for Blair to precede him. 

"I'm counting on it." 

* * *

Scanning the park, Jim nervously rubbed the back of his neck. The fact that he didn't know exactly what to look for added to the already enormous pressure weighing him down. 

A few people apparently appreciated his lover's beauty, judging from the stragglers who slowed their pace to ogle the lone man sitting on a green patch of grass, flipping pages as the wind blew curls back from his face. *Damn it, Ellison. _Focus_. With the head on your shoulders.* 

To Blair's side, at a respectable distance, Rafe and Connor threw a Frisbee back and forth. With half a thought, Jim mused that he'd never seen Rafe in snug jeans before. *Not bad.* A grin edged onto his lips for a moment as Blair sneaked a glance at the very same sight, not for the first time that day. 

Off to the other side and behind Blair, hobo H. lay on a wood bench, grumbling with a faux drunken slur as the breeze disturbed the newspapers covering him. Even after he drew the long straw, Jim had to bribe Brown with Jags tickets to get him into those grimy clothes. 

Right on cue, Joel passed in front of Blair with his energetic little white poodle, its identification tags clinking metallically in time to its trot. Distracted by the panting breaths of the little animal, Jim caught himself on the edge of a zone out and shook his head angrily, berating himself for almost leaving Blair hanging. Developing a new appreciation for his partner's ability to keep him alert with chatter, he made a mental note to let him in on his gratitude later. 

At precisely that moment, he heard the plastic clicking of a camera shutter. Sweeping toward the sound with his sight, he found a man with dark hair wearing a bright yellow parka. He pressed the button on the radio mounted on his shoulder, breaking into a jog. "All right, listen up. Dark hair, yellow jacket, south end of the park." 

Glancing at his partner just to reassure himself that he was okay, he stealthily approached the man from behind. Raising his weapon, he confirmed the proximity of his colleagues and then loudly announced, "Cascade Police! Hands in the air!" 

Startled, the man dropped the camera and shot his hands straight up over his head. "I didn't do anything, man!" 

Ignoring him, Jim pulled one hand down and closed a handcuff around it, then performed the same action on the other. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?" 

"Yes, but I didn't do anything wrong!" 

"We'll see about that. Connor, grab that camera and bag it." Turning, Jim found his partner still sitting on the grass, waiting for a signal. Breathing a sigh of relief, he depressed the button on the radio again. "We've got him, Chief." 

* * *

"This can't be our guy." Jim's tone dripped with incredulous disbelief as he stood in front of the two-way mirror to the interrogation room. 

"Doesn't seem very likely, does it?" a deep, nasal voice replied. 

Both cops regarded the dark-haired man from the park. He sat alone at the table in the center of the room, clutching his parka with a white-knuckled grip. Every noise startled him, his brow and upper lip glistening in the harsh light. 

Jim almost felt sorry for the poor schmuck. "Guy's about to wet himself." 

Straightening to his full height, Simon adjusted his vest. "Well, he's the only link you've got to our stalker, so you'd better go find out what he knows." 

Grabbing the folder off the counter, Jim headed out into the hall, leaving his captain to watch the show. After entering the room, he seated himself across from the other man. "I'm Detective James Ellison. I'll be recording our conversation." 

"Okay." 

Pressing play and record on the cassette player, Jim repeated his name along with his badge number and the date and time. "Please state your name for the record." 

"Scott S-simon." 

"I need you to speak as clearly as you can." 

"Okay." 

"Is it true that you have waived your right to an attorney?" 

"Yes." Scott hesitated for only a moment. "Am I going to jail?" 

Jim folded his hands across the open file. "That depends on how willing you are to help us." 

"Help you how?" 

"Why were you taking pictures of this man, Blair Sandburg, today at the park?" He retrieved a 5"x7" photo and slid it over in front of the other man. 

"Some guy paid me fifty bucks to stand close and take pictures." 

"Does this guy have a name?" 

"He didn't tell me." 

"Did it not strike you as odd that the man paid you fifty dollars to take pictures with a _disposable_ camera?" 

"Not at the time. I needed the money, so I didn't really question it." 

"For what?" 

"I... lost a bet and I owe someone." 

Nodding, Jim picked up Blair's picture and placed it back in the front of the file. "Have you ever met the man who hired you before today?" 

"No. I _swear_!" 

"Could you identify him if you saw him again?" 

"Yeah, I got a pretty good look at him." 

"Would you be willing to go through some photos and see if you recognize him?" 

Scott nodded vigorously. "Yes, absolutely." 

"Could you describe him to me?" 

"Blond hair, green eyes, medium height, thin." 

"What sort of blond? Yellow, sandy, platinum, bleached?" 

"Platinum. Straight hair, shoulder length. Bushy eyebrows." 

"Okay." Jim quickly jotted down the details. "Did he have any distinguishing marks or tattoos?" 

"Now that you mention it, his nose is a little crooked like it's been broken and he had a small skull tattoo right here." He pointed to the juncture of his neck and left shoulder. 

"Good. What color was it?" 

"That ugly blue-green color." 

"One solid color?" 

"Yes." 

"Anything else you can think of?" 

The young man furrowed his brow and stared at the far wall. "Oh!" He snapped his fingers. "He was wearing aftershave-- Old Spice." 

Jim quirked a brow. "You're positive it was Old Spice?" 

"Yeah. My dad used to wear it. I think they've changed it a little since then, but it was the same basic scent." 

"Okay. You've been very helpful. Thank you." 

"What happens now?" 

Gaining his feet, Jim picked up the file. "I'll send an officer in with the photos we discussed. If that doesn't work out, I'll send our sketch artist in. Does that sound okay?" 

"Fine." 

After retrieving the session tape, Jim paused. "Are you hungry, thirsty?" 

"I'd kill for some coffee." 

A surprised snicker escaped Jim's lips. "I don't know if I'd admit that in the middle of a police station, but I'll see what I can do." 

Scott returned his smile, his posture visibly relaxing. 

* * *

Jim stopped in the hallway by the door, tilting his head as he listened to the slow, steady breathing on the other side. Quietly pushing the door open, he peered inside and found his lover sitting in the otherwise empty interrogation room. His hands rested on his knees, open palms facing the ceiling. Shallow breathing passed through slightly parted lips, closed eyes blocking unwanted stimulation. 

"Chief?" Jim kept his voice subdued so as not to startle him. 

Blair turned his head sharply, drawing a deep breath through his nose as if just waking. 

"Simon said you took off." Stepping fully into the room, he closed the door behind him and moved to the table in front of the other man, perching on the edge. 

Rubbing his face before replying, Blair attempted to orient himself. "I just told him I needed some time alone and he said this room was available." 

Nodding, Jim opted for silence. 

"I'm fine." After a beat, Blair glanced up at him, then away. "It wasn't him, was it?" He studied his hands as he waited for a response, picking at imaginary flakes of dry skin. 

"No, but he saw our guy. H. is in with him right now, showing him mug shots." 

Blair regarded Jim through slit eyelids. "Did he get a pretty good look?" 

"Yeah. He gave me a pretty good description. Kid was scared half to death." 

"Yeah, I can relate to _that_ feeling." 

"You're not fine, Chief. Talk to me." 

Waving a hand, Blair shook his head. "Not now. That whole Parkman drug case. I just _knew_ I was going to do time and my life was _over_." 

"I think you know I wouldn't have let that happen." 

"Man, we've been snowed by women a time or two, huh?" A sad grin darkened the usually bright face as Blair's eyes followed the cracks in the cement along the wall. 

Still sitting on the table, Jim leaned his weight forward on his hands. "Yeah, but we don't have to worry about that anymore, do we?" 

Finally looking up at him, Blair held his gaze. "No. I guess we don't." A completely content expression settled on his face, his lips releasing the shadow of a grin yet barely moving at all. "So, what are you doing in here babysitting me? You have a case to solve." 

"Rafe and Brown are on it. They'll let me know if something develops." 

"And if Simon finds you in here sitting on your duff?" 

Jim shrugged, tilting his head a little as he stared straight ahead. "Some things are more important than work." He glanced down quickly when a hand slid up his thigh, squeezing. 

"I'm fine, Jim." 

"And you'll come find me if a time comes when you're not?" 

Blair withdrew his hand and glanced away. "I can deal with it." 

Scooting off the table, but still leaning against it, Jim sighed. "I think you've missed the whole point of this life partner thing." 

"How so?" Blair squinted as he focused on the other man in curiosity. 

"What did you tell me once? 'Friends help each other. That's what we do.' Don't you think that's magnified with life partners?" 

"Well, yeah, but..." 

Smiling, Jim affectionately quipped, "As one of my professors in college said, don't 'yeah, but' me unless you have a legitimate argument to back it up." 

Blair opened his mouth to reply, but a knock on the door stopped him just before Brown poked his head in. "Jim, we've got something when you get a minute." 

"Be right there." After the door closed, Jim spoke quietly. "Think about what I said." 

Blair nodded. 

"You with me on this one or you need some more time?" 

"Give me ten." 

"I can do that." Jim pushed off the table and strode across the room. Stepping out into the hall, he almost collided with Brown. "What have you got for me?" 

"Okay. The kid didn't find our guy in the mug books, but he found a guy that looks _a lot_ like him. David Hunter. So, I ran the guy through the system. Can't be our guy. He's dead. Shanked last week at Starkville. You'll never guess who his cell mate was." H. tapped Jim in the chest with the back of his hand, grinning. 

"Intrigue me." 

"Brad Ventriss." 

Mouth dropping open, Jim shook his head. "Go on." 

"I did a check and our boy David has an older brother with no record." 

Jim snapped his fingers. "Feldman was right." 

"What?" 

"Sandburg's friend, Rick Feldman, told me that he had a feeling that Ventriss was behind this, but I dismissed it." 

"Bad move, my man." 

"Do we have a name and address on the brother?" 

"Tres Hunter. 847 McKinley Avenue, Apartment 9." 

"Let's go talk to him." 

* * *

As they pulled into the PD lot after the arrest and subsequent search of Hunter's apartment, Blair cleared his throat. "Jim?" 

"Mmm?" 

"Tres Hunter, are you sure he's the guy?" 

Curious, Jim looked over at the other man. "About 99%, yeah. Why?" 

"Good. I'm going to take a walk. Can you manage without me?" 

"Sure, Chief. Just let me get Officer Denson down here." Jim reached for the radio only to have a hand cover his and pull it away. 

"I need to go alone." 

Brow wrinkling into a frown, Jim didn't argue. 

"I just need some fresh air, man. All this shadow business has gotten kind of claustrophobic. Just sort of feels like the whole _world_ is closing in." He illustrated with his hands. 

"Got your cell?" 

Digging it out of his pocket, Blair held it up, waving it teasingly. "Fully charged and turned on." 

"All right." Jim extracted his keys from the ignition. "Try not to stay gone too long." 

"Yes, Dad." At his lover's stern expression, he playfully punched him in the arm. "Just kidding." 

"I worry, Chief. I can't just turn it off." 

"I know." Blair squeezed the other man's thigh. "I just need a little bit of space." 

"You need me to back off? Am I smothering you?" 

Blair smiled reassuringly. "Not from you, ya big dope. From this whole looking over my shoulder every second, wondering if some head case is gonna make a play for me." 

"Okay. Well, you know where to find me if you need me. I'll leave my phone on, too." 

"Jim. You'll be interrogating this guy, right?" 

"Yeah." 

"Turn the phone off. I know your desk number. If you're not there, it'll roll over to one of the other detectives." 

Jaws tensing visibly, Jim held Blair's gaze for several long seconds before answering. "I'll give the phone to Simon while I'm conducting the interrogation, but it stays _on_." 

Chuckling, Blair opened the door and slid out of his seat, shaking his head. "Fair enough." 

"Lock your door," Jim groused and slammed his own. 

Doing just that, Blair circled the truck. "I won't be long." 

Jim nodded and headed into the building without looking back. Blair smiled at the attempt to truly give him some space, then turned and zipped his jacket, pulling his collar up against the damp Cascade air. Even if he wanted to stay gone a long time, the cold front moving in wouldn't allow it. 

Finding a bench not more than a block from the station, Blair sat down. Tilting his head back and closing his eyes, he allowed what heat the sun radiated this time of year to warm his cheeks, not much help to a perpetually cold man. 

He loved Jim. He really did. But those eyes constantly watched him, and it grew a bit unnerving sometimes, especially with how much love underlay those glances. Ever since Naomi's visit, the expression in the almost translucent eyes had changed somewhat. Before, worry creased the lines at their edges, but now they surveyed him with a _knowing_ that just got to him. The last thing he wanted was for Jim to find out just how freaked out he was, but trust Naomi to just waltz in and blurt it out for all the world to hear. All _his_ world, that being Jim, anyway. 

He loved Naomi, but sometimes he just wanted to shake her. Things were always so simple to her and that just was not the way the real world worked. The coolness seeping through his pants from the wooden slats under his legs reminded him of the real world again and he stood, heading back in the direction of his life. 

* * *

His game face firmly in place, Jim turned his chair around backwards, a cool expression schooling his features. "All right, Hunter. We've got you cold on stalking." 

"You've got nothing on me." The outwardly calm man's accented voice quavered only slightly. 

Jim smiled, the suspect's vitals telling a different story entirely. "I'll tell you what I've got. I have nine black silk roses, three missing from the dozen. I think you know where those three were used. I have numerous sets of pictures of Mr. Sandburg strewn all over your desk. I have Old Spice aftershave, which you left traces of on all three roses." 

Squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin, Hunter oozed false bravado. "You can't put me away on that." 

"Oh, that's not all I have." Jim smiled again as he stood up and began to prowl around the room, his voice taking on a deadly quiet tone. "I have a blond hair that you left on the package in Mr. Sandburg's apartment. It's only a matter of time before a judge signs an order compelling you to give a hair sample." He stopped, placing one hand on the table in front of Hunter and one on the back of the chair he sat in. As he leaned close, warm exhalations teased the suspect's ear as Jim spoke. "And I have your notebook detailing Mr. Sandburg's movements over the last two weeks. Even someone living with the man doesn't know his life in that kind of detail." 

The suspect's breathing faltered and he jerked his head away from Jim's lips. 

"I mean, what were you thinking, _writing down_ evidence of your guilt? That was one stupid move. That would hang you even if we didn't have a witness willing to testify against you. And that's just one charge. We've also got you on breaking and entering as well as vandalism. The department garage has video surveillance, Einstein. You're done." His back turned, Jim smiled broadly at the loud gulp from the other man occupying the room. 

"What do you want from me?" 

Slowly turning, Jim faced his prey. "Who hired you?" 

"What difference does that make?" 

Re-settling into his chair, Jim crossed his arms over the back. "Look, man. You're just the low man on the food chain. Talk to me now and we'll see if we can make you a deal." 

"What kind of deal?" 

"Mr. Sandburg is a pretty forgiving guy. Believes in the good in people. I _might_ be able to talk him into letting you plea down to a lesser charge and avoid a jury trial." 

"In return for what?" the man spat, sweat streaming down both sides of his face. 

"Condition number one: you pay for all body repairs on his car." 

"What's condition number two?" 

"First, you tell me who hired you." 

The man attempted to stare Jim down, but relented, glancing away. "Brad Ventriss." 

"How did you come to know Mr. Ventriss?" 

"He was my brother's cell mate before he died." Hunter spoke of his brother's death like one would speak of the ingredients to a recipe, no emotion whatsoever in his tone. 

"Condition number two: you wear a wire and get it on tape that Mr. Ventriss hired you to stalk Mr. Sandburg." 

"Why does it matter? He's already in prison." 

"As it stands, he's serving a life sentence with the possibility of parole. If we get him on this, the parole board will never let him out. The man is a danger to society and I don't want him on my streets. Do we have a deal?" 

Hunter projected a facade of disinterest, running a hand back through his hair. "Yeah, whatever." He jumped at the click when Jim turned off the cassette recorder and stood, taking the tape with him. 

* * *

Jim sat in the surveillance van with his partner, the other man presently playing drums on his thighs to get rid of nervous energy. 

"Hey, Jim?" 

He turned to look at Blair, chin resting against the headphones around his neck. "Yeah?" 

"Do you think Ventriss will fall for it?" 

Smiling, Jim reached over and slid his fingers into his lover's hair, thumb stroking a high cheek bone. "I know he will, Chief. He's too cocky not to." 

"Right." Blair chewed on his lip for a moment before speaking again. "Jim?" 

"Yes, Chief?" He made sure to keep his tone patient, used to his partner's nervous chatter in situations such as this. 

"Why the headphones? You can hear without them." 

"Ever heard of the path of least resistance? I have to run the equipment and I need to make sure that I get it on tape." 

"Oh, sorry. I'll shut up now." 

"No need. They haven't gotten to the juicy stuff yet." 

* * *

Brad Ventriss looked at the pictures spread out over the table in disgust. "What is _this_? I told you to initiate phase two." 

"Maybe we should go over it again, just to make sure I'm clear on what you want." Hunter's pulse almost propelled his heart out of his chest. 

"What kind of _dim wit_ are you? Make it slow, and make it hurt. I want Blair Sandburg to suffer. Some stitches, a couple broken bones at least." 

"How much?" 

"You know I'm good for it." Ventriss' smug tone matched his posture as he leaned back in his chair. 

"That's not going to work for me this time. I followed Sandburg, took pictures, and delivered the packages without negotiating a price. I won't do it anymore." 

" _God_ , give you little people some money and you think you can develop a brain." 

" _My_ ass is on the line here, not yours. You want the job done, or don't you?" 

"Okay. Fifteen thousand dollars. Good enough?" 

Hunter frowned, knowing that he had to make this charade appear real. "That'll do. For now." 

"For now, you little piss ant?" 

"You got somebody else available to terrorize Sandburg for you?" Pointing what he hoped was a menacing finger, he scooted closer to the table between them. "Just count your blessings that I don't hold you responsible for David's death. You were his cell mate. You _should_ have been watching his back." 

Ventriss paled somewhat. "Whatever. Just get back here and let me know when it's done." 

At that moment, Detective James Ellison strode into the room. Moving over to their table, he laid his palms flat and bent down into Brad's face. "I'll tell you what's done, Ventriss. You are. When I present evidence to your parole board that you solicited outside help to stalk and bring harm to Mr. Sandburg, a man instrumental in your arrest and conviction for murder, there's no _way_ you'll see the outside of these walls until your full sentence is served." 

Brad Ventriss raised his chin in challenge, swallowing hard, sweat breaking out over his face. His eyes shifted to his visitor. "You'd better watch your back, Hunter." 

Jim blinked innocently. "I'm sorry. Did you just threaten a man in the presence of a police officer?" 

Tres Hunter stood. "Consider it payback for not watching David's back." 

"You'd just better watch yours, Hunter." 

"Guard!" Jim yelled. "Take this piece of trash back to his cell." 

"You've got it." The man roughly pulled Ventriss out of his chair and shoved him toward the door. 

* * *

Blair spotted his friend's back and slid onto the stool next to him. "Hey, man." 

"Hey." Rick winced as he swallowed a sip of hot coffee. "Needs to cool a little." 

"Sorry it took me so long to get back with you. Things have been a little crazy lately." 

"No kidding. So you caught the guy?" Adding a tad more sugar, Rick stirred his beverage. 

"Yeah, turned out to be Ventriss, just like you said." 

Rick blinked, eyes wide. "No way, man!" 

"Yep." Blair shook his head. "All this over buying a lousy paper. Maybe Sidney was right. I could've given him a C and avoided a whole lot of grief." 

"You couldn't have known." 

"Ah, well. That's over now. Did you pop the question yet?" Sliding off his stool, Blair gestured toward a booth with his steaming cup. 

Following suit, Rick's face split into a wide grin. "She said yes." 

"Great!" Blair soundly thumped the other man on the back. "So, when's the big day?" 

"I don't know yet. I was so relieved when she said yes that I forgot to ask." Feldman shrugged sheepishly as they sat down. 

Chuckling, Blair blew the steam from the top of his coffee. 

"What about you, man?" 

"Me?" Blair arched a brow as he continued blowing across his cup. 

"When are you going to settle down?" 

"Me?" 

"That's right." Rick rubbed his chin and scrunched his brow in thought before pinning Blair with his gaze. "You're already married." 

"Huh?" 

Pitching his voice too low for anyone else to hear, he leaned closer. "To your cop." 

"I'm fine, man, really. Don't worry about me." 

Rick laughed. "Question evaded like a pro. I didn't believe a word of that press conference, you know." 

"I gathered as much. I mean, you _are_ still speaking to me." Testing his beverage, Blair took a tentative sip, enjoying the bitter taste as it washed over his tongue. 

"He really is one, isn't he?" 

"Rick. My dissertation was a fraud. End of story." His expression conveyed what the steady words could not. 

"Whatever." 

"Yeah." 

* * *

Blair closed his eyes, gathering his mother close. "I'm going to miss you." 

Pulling back, she smiled, pecking him on the cheek. "Me, too, honey. But I'm just glad you're okay." 

"I bet Charlie's already at the airport, wearing a hole in the carpet." 

"He's a worry wart." She waved her hand in dismissal, laughing. 

His heart warming at the sound, Blair returned her smile, kissing her cheek. "You'd better go before you miss your flight." 

"Yeah." She turned to Jim and hugged him. "Keep him safe." 

"I have every intention to." 

"Keep him happy." 

"I'll do my best." 

"That's all I can ask." Reaching out to Blair one last time, she slid her fingers through his, squeezing once before letting go. "I love you, Blair." 

"I love you, too." 

"Bye." 

"Bye, Mom." He sighed as he watched her disappear into the corridor leading to the plane, leaning into the support as Jim wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. "I hate good-byes." 

* * *

Jim stood next to his partner, valiantly trying to keep the grin from swallowing his whole face. His lips trembled from the effort and an ache permeated his jaw muscles. 

"What do you mean it's already paid?" 

The sweaty man behind the body shop counter flipped the papers on his clipboard. "Paid in full by a T. Hunter. You know that name?" 

"You have _got_ to be kidding." Blair turned dark blue eyes unerringly on his partner, jabbing a finger in the air toward the other man. "You did this." 

"Me?" Jim's mouth dropped open as he shook his head. "What are you talking about?" 

"Don't even try it, Ellison." 

"You're complaining that you don't have to pay the bill? I'm sure I could think of some repairs around the loft if you're just itching to drop two grand." 

Blair narrowed his eyes at the smug grin, but turned back to the counter when the man behind it spoke. 

"If you'll just sign here and here, we'll be all set." 

Shooting a sidelong glance at Jim as he picked up the pen, Blair quickly signed his name and collected his keys. As they walked out of the lobby into the parking lot, their shoulders bumped occasionally. "What did you threaten him with?" 

"What makes you think I threatened him, Chief?" 

"Jim, you've gotta work on that poker face. This is _me_ you're talking to." 

Sighing dramatically, the older man swiped a hand over his face, defeated for this round. "I told him that you probably wouldn't object to him pleading the charges down. I also offered to put in a word for him with the judge and get him minimum security." 

"Why would he care what kind of security there is? He'll still be doing time." 

"Yes, Chief, but not with Ventriss or his cronies." 

"Ah." 

"The light bulb illuminates." 

"Oh, shut up." Blair affectionately swatted his partner, drawing a laugh, then faced the other man. "So, what do you want to do now?" 

Fingering a button on the front of Blair's shirt, Jim allowed the sensitive pad to travel the length of his lover's neck before chucking his chin. "Well, I was thinking now that you don't have a shadow anymore..." 

"Mmm-hmm?" Blair crooned playfully. 

"...I might collect on that rain check." 

"Race you to the loft!" Blair lunged toward his door, intent on getting a head start. 

"That 'classic' is no match for 'Old Faithful', my man." 

"Bite me, Ellison!" 

"Oh, I plan to." 


End file.
